


Rebellious Heretic Archivist

by Jesslb429



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood, Dubious Science, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesslb429/pseuds/Jesslb429
Summary: Leah never had a choice.She didn't choose to be wedged in the center of a war beyond her ken. Or to be dropped into a world that wasn't supposed to exist for her own "safety". A world where most of her skills and knowledge are useless.She didn't choose to have what valuable information she did possess ripped from her head while she slept.She didn't choose to be changed. She didn't choose anything.Now her only choice is to survive and hope that she can make some kind of sense out of madness.





	Rebellious Heretic Archivist

**Author's Note:**

> *sits down crossed legged in front of reader* *waves*
> 
> Hi there! 
> 
> I know you didn't stop in for a massive preamble so I'll try and keep this brief. Brevity is the soul of wit...yadda yadda yadda whatever. 
> 
> I want to thank you, firstly, for dropping in. It's been a few (or five) years since I've seriously written. Which is a bit of a problem seeing as it was what I took a healthy amount of classes for during my undergrad. Thanks to my struggle with mental illness, it wasn't until recently that I started writing again. I'm starting over with fan fiction and I'm extremely excited about this. My therapist hopes this will build my confidence. I can be a tad granular and have a tendency toward perfectionism in my writing. Which is why it's taken me three months to finish the first chapter. I swear that it won't take that long to update. I already have the second update started so never fear. This started as a self-insert. However, I'm so excited about how it evolved into more. I hope that I don't let you down. Just a warning, the first half of this has some sentence fragments and alliteration is abundant. I was going for a stylistic mood thing and it feels like the chapter ended up rough. Although the entire thing feels rough to me. I'm not a good judge. Also warning. There is a little bit of self harm at the end of this so...please don't hate me. I'm unbeta'd as well and relying on multiple grammar checkers to keep things tidy. Am I lowering your expectations enough? 
> 
> Anyway, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI I made a couple revisions on 7-15-18. Mostly for clarity sake and changed the end a bit. I did want to mention it because it changes how I'm writing the beginning of the next chapter. I'm going to make a note at the beginning of the next chapter as well for those who aren't going to reread this. I'm anxious to know what you think and if this revision works okay. 
> 
> Also, this installment is a bit different in style from the way the others are going to be. All of these things I should have mentioned in my initial post. Sorry guys.

**Nothing matters. Not now.**

Leah hated clubs. Most were too loud, too hot, and too populated for her tastes. The permeating sour beer and sweat stink turning her stomach while she tried not wince at the jackassary around her. Often, she made attempts at some kind of enjoyment. Feigning smiles and the slight, insincere rock of her shoulders at the annoying wub wubs that passed as music. But, without fail, it ended that same. Down one shot and go home. The slight lull of alcohol numbing the sting of disappointing everyone. At least she slept well those nights.

**Lose yourself.**

This time, surrounded by patrons in deep shadow and flashing white strobes, she found herself unable to dislike it. A warm, honeyed voice in the back of her head kept murmuring to her. Coaxing, cajoling, convincing. Too far fallen into her head. All attempts at worry or sadness snatched away before she had a chance to think them. Lulling her into a blissfully energized trace as her body bounced and writhed.

**Enjoy.**

Old memories passed and wove through the rhythmic club song. Small moments stolen with friends. A united front of pleading to let them play dress up. Hours spent beforehand dragging her feet as friends tried to maneuver her out of her “sad hipster student” uniform. Echoes of laughter and woots of excitement when the battle was finally lost mingled in her head as the beat pulsed against her nervous systems. No matter her distaste for actually going, she'd relive the getting ready a million times over.

**None of this matters.**

Even if a small shred of uncertainty squirmed in some far-flung corner of her mind, it wasn't enough to break through the lack of inhibition she felt. If someone wandered up to ask where the bar was, she could only point randomly and hope that she didn't send them to the toilets instead.

**Embrace the music.**

Tonight, she danced for all the dances she ran out on. For all the years and friends she'd lost. Dancing was all she could think to do now. Nothing from her past could ruin this.

**It's safe to forget here.**

Not her copious failings.

Not her shit-ass job.

Not every attempt to pull herself from the dregs to a functioning member of society that ended in tears.

No.

**Life is hard. That isn't a problem here.**

None of it passed through her mind.

**Dance.**

So lost in her frantic movements, it hardly mattered that the same song from 2011 played on loop for hours as she lost herself outside of time. It also didn't matter that, for all Leah's aimless flailing, she never collided with another body.

**Stay.**

Or that she hardly broke a sweat or needed a break.

**Dance.**

Or that she wasn't remotely dressed for a night out.

**Ignore.**

Or that the light and darkness didn't coexist but pushed against one another in a frantic struggle.

**Forget.**

It still didn't matter.

**Nothing matters.**

Until the song changed.

At first, Leah's body continued to move, ignoring the simultaneous drop in temperature and light level. Music is music. Just because the beat's different didn't mean the song can't be danced to.

Half the song passed before the change even registered. The bass line came to her first. One that, on several occasions, she'd argued was one of the most memorable in modern music. Leah's heart stilled as the lyrics filled the space. While considered a classic, “Under Pressure” was severely out of place. This wasn't some club mix, either. This was Mercury and Bowie in true form.

Halting her movements, Leah took it upon herself to survey her surroundings. Oddities finally came into focus.

Upon inspection, the faces of the other dancers were completely obscured. Not shadowed in the darkness, but covered in it. Darkness replacing any features these people might have once held. The space held no architecture or furnishings. No bars, no doors, and no DJ booth. The floor and the walls stood as just an empty, black expanse. Pure nothingness. Music played from nowhere, as present as air. The strobes split apart, moving independently from one another, pushing against the throng of shadow dancers.

Panic built, breaking whatever reverie she had left. Pulse and breath stuttering in fear.

How did she get here?

When did a club open in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania?

Why would she come to one of these when she needed to be-

“Fuck” Leah heard her voice muffled against the music. Her memory surged forth, bringing with it a painful spike in her right temple.

Every Tuesday and Thursday she stationed herself in the community college library to study for her entrance exams and work on various papers. Clubbing would've been irresponsible. Screwing her eyes shut, playing over the last few moments she remembered, her legs pushed her away from the crowd.

She knew she'd been in the library late and she needed to leave for work. Her mind sparred a passing groan for the thought of night shifts, but quickly refocused. Her bag full of books artfully shoved to fit among the trash and personal items.

When she moved to check out, the lights and shadows began to move of their own accord, following her through the building. Just like... No. That wasn't possible. That had been taken care of. One pill in the morning, one before dinner and it wasn't a problem anymore.

Fuck that! It wasn't an option. She's sane!

**Dance.**

Her feet stumbled forward, struggling to remember.

What happened next?

**Forget.**

Wisps of memory hovered in the back of her mind. Teasing towards awareness. Leah wanted to remember. Every attempt to bring them to the fore failing, leaving only the echoes of sensations. Music in her ears. Books pressed into her spine. Frightened tears running down her face as she struggled to breathe. Nothing concrete or whole. 

**It's safer to forget.**

Why couldn't she remember?

**We can make you dance again.**

**Make you forget.**

Leah's eyes snapped open. The voice was harsher now. No longer murmuring reassurances but barking threats. Angry, wanting to snap her in two with just a phrase.

**How easy it would be to make the human suffer.**

The music dimmed, accompanied by a sharp drop in temperature. Her entire body tensed and shivered, hoping to wake up in bed.

**We'll rip what's left from your fragile, little skull.**

**Make you forget how to stand. How to breathe.**

“Get out of my head!” Her hands flew to her ears.

**We'll leave and take it all with us.**

**You'll be a drooling husk when we're through.**

Turning to glance back at the “dance floor”,all out war had broken out. The lights formed into humanoid shapes, bright and beating against the shadow dancers. Their limbs too stiff and long to move with any kind of natural grace. Unearthly screeches resonated as sparks and tendrils of darkness exploded from a figure's person. Worse yet when the light humanoids buried their hands in the chest of a dancer before rending them into a million tiny sparks. Wholly destroying them. The noise that came after was nearly deafening, even through the muffle of her palms.

While devoid of the viscera of a normal battle, Leah still felt the same abject horror. These beings were slaughtering each other. Her legs wobbled then locked, rooting her in place. Fighters from both sides were blown apart and separated from limbs. The sheer violence so foreign, so brutal, her mind struggled to keep up.

Then the fighting inched closer.

 _Is this real? Could I die here?_ Retching at the thought, Leah tried to will herself to move. Any push that spurred the spark of self-preservation. Her body wouldn't respond outside of her arms falling helplessly to her side. Nothing outside of standing stock-still for what felt like an eternity.

Breaking through her panic, a cool, authoritative whisper ghosted her ear.

“This will hurt. My apologies. I will explain when you wake. For now, we must be gone.” Icy fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist, chilling and burning through her flesh. She wanted to scream, but her lungs failed to force the sound, letting out only a low squeak.

With a sudden, sharp tug, Leah tumbled backwards. Closing her eyes, she braced herself for a collision. Anticipating the jarring in her spine and the cracking of her skull against the floor.

Moments passed and nothing. It never came. No floor. No new pain. Nothing but the gentle rush of air.

Opening her eyes, she was no longer in the void of a night club.

At the center of the cosmos, she fell. Her heart stilled as eons flew by. Comets streaking across the universe. Time working in fits and starts, warping to fit the needs of the bodies that inhabited it. Planets formed and died as stars collapsed into black holes. The entirety of everything played out around her. For her.

Made only slightly disconcerting by the fading yet familiar base line threaded through the celestial silence. It dawned on her that the Queen song had never stopped,instead punctuating the battle noises.

Wincing, she briefly noticed when the stars and galaxies began to blink. New burning spread over Leah's skin, concentrating at points.

Her body gained new heaviness like she hadn't been fully present in her skin before. Along with it an awareness of every ache and pain on her person. Pinching her eyes closed, she wished for it to pass. Instead, she gained new pressure against her back. The music gone and in its place came murmurs. Not whispers but voices and sounds swallowed by a state unawareness.

Her body began to slow until inert, laying flat on her back. The pain no longer gaining but real, spanning the length of her body. On her wrist, shoulder, leg, stomach, face, and multiple other places. Something itchy and uncomfortable covered her body causing further irritation.

Her thoughts muddled together. Current reality and previous insanity blending till murky. Everything she remembered seemed dull and dreamlike. Now was real and awake,but still hazy.

To find some stability, she tried moving any part of her body. Something physical to anchor herself. First came her toes than fingers. Their wiggle sent a slight thrum of elation through her. Her mind and body were working in tandem. Alive and whole.

Previously muffled sounds became clear. The steady drip-drop of water against stone. Chains clattering against slight movement. Muted voices far away in a heated discussion.

Tipping her head sideways, her cheek grazed a bundle of fabric shoved beneath her head. With a whimper, pain shot through her jaw and curled to her cheekbone. Eyes snapping open while her hands, working instinctively, sought out the injury. The movement itself elicited an array of new discomforts. Some deep in bone and muscle, aggravated by the sudden onset of use.

Focusing her gaze through the new haze, Leah saw bars illuminated by dim, warm light. Her pain easing, now replaced with the pressing unease of confinement.

With much internal protest, she pushed herself up. The threadbare blanket that had covered her fell away as her left leg jerked in her attempted to bring it to her chest. A damp cold crawled over her skin, leaving her with the realization that her body was completely bare. Bra, underwear, everything taken a placed somewhere else. Somewhere not on her body where they should have been. Scrambling, she pulled the blanket from her lap and hastily wrapped it around herself before looking to her leg. A heavy manacle rested on her ankle leaving her attached to the floor three feet away. Attempting to somehow gain some slack, she pulled her leg towards her. After a few attempts, nothing was gained but a new ache in the joint and chaffing on her skin. Promptly giving up, she tightened her grip on the blanket and fell against the wall of the cell with a tiny whine.

Overall, Leah felt she was handling all of this with some measure of grace. Despite her nudity, her apparent imprisonment, multiple injuries, and all together strangeness. She hadn't even thought to assess the physical damage to her person. Nothing in her thought to react. If she'd the wherewithal to think over the odd apathy, she may have guessed a form of shock. Similar to when someone is grievously injured and unaware for several moments afterward.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Throat suddenly sore and dry, the cries of frustrations fell nearly silent.

In absence of mobility and freedom to wander, she let her eyes roam instead. Her mind itched with every visual pass. This dungeon was eerily familiar for a place she didn't know.

 _There should be fewer cells. Three or four big ones. Not a dozen small ones._ The more she tugged at the memory, the farther away it slipped out of place. Deja vu's asshole cousin playing keep away.

“Some of the haze will lift in time.” Leah squeaked, whipping her head towards the familiar voice. When her eyes connected, she could do nothing but stare at the man now standing in her cell.

The figure in the corner, at first glance, could easily be mistake for any casual business man or well-dressed professor. His clothing immaculate and carefully chosen to exude authority and poise.  Shirt and waistcoat buttoned and matched just so, absent of a tie or suit jacket to match his slacks. The gentle greys of his clothing highlighting the warm tone of his skin. His posture one of grace and intelligence. He was to be respected and heard.

Until the shadow around him shifted. Respect changing to fear. Not dissimilar to the dancers before, this man wore a translucent cloak of darkness. Swirling around him like smoke.

Leah scrambled backward, ankle jerking against its binding and jarring her back against the wall. Her body already flush against the wall, there was nowhere to hide. Eyes wide, she willed herself not to cry or scream. Her arms vibrated against her chest, her body unable to keep calm.

Stepping forward, the man held his hands in front of him. A non-threatening gesture in an attempt to soothe her. To stem an oncoming outburst. Rendered pointless by the large swaths of shadow sloughing away in large curls before dissipating into the ether. The man's face softened, his haughty expression falling away to counter the terror etched on Leah's.

“Please stay calm. I will explain. Please. My name's Nishant and I -” The simultaneous plodding of footsteps and clang of the thick wooden door against stone wall left Nishant's words hanging in the air. A slight wave of annoyance passed over his features while never breaking his focus on the trembling woman across from him.

Leah never claimed to have much sense. However, none of this she considered sense. No sense of time. No sense of where she was. No sense of her present reality. Her mind currently flipping between two options to explain her current predicament.

One: She had finally lost all grip on sanity and finally succumbed to full-blown madness. Her current reality, she guessed, was a creation of her mind to mask her being institutionalized for the rest of her natural life.

Two: Something insanely stupid happened,she died and this was her literal hell. Most likely hell, possibly purgatory if the universe was kind. She was sure whatever the peaceful side of the afterlife existed for her, it didn't include her naked in chains.

Those were her options until she saw the figures making their way towards her cell. It took her more than a moment to process their faces. For the numerous hours spent looking at them, the lines and angles didn't quite match at first. Logically, she reasoned, they shouldn't. No matter how good graphics got, renderings left something to be desired. Seeing video game characters on the screen was never going to compare to the person in the flesh.

And neither Cassandra Pentaghast nor Cullen Rutherford stood as figures to be ignored. For the most part, they looked the same. Both tall, intimidating, and solid. Bearing the softness of skin and blood, both held wear beyond the scars and marks presented in the game. Dark bags beneath his eyes and hollowness in his cheeks betrayed his lack of personal care. And her face. had already begun to show faint lines born from the frustration that years of devotion demanded of her. Not to say the pair didn't wear it well. On any other day, she would have walked away with a strong sense of inadequacy. Now, however, Leah felt her heart stop and her mind snap.

Thedas. Fucking Thedas! The tremble of her limbs stopped. A rhythm of denial thrummed through her head.

Dead. She decided the answer to this riddle was that she'd definitely died. For sure option two. This represented her own personal circle of hell. Behind bars in a world she adored, but where her few skills were almost useless. Insanity would have been preferable, but the scenario was already so beyond sane that no human mind could whip up this level of disassociation from reality.

"Can you speak? Do you understand me?” His voice was just as it was before. Deep and strong. A voice that wasn't supposed to belong to her. Cassandra meet her with a hard stare that made Leah want to coil into herself.

How did she understand Thedosian Common? Putting aside the dozens of fanfic explanations, the historical development of their language hardly matched. But instead of a tangle of gibberish, she understood.

She probed for grounding information and came up emptier than expected. For each thread of knowledge she had, twenty more came up missing. The Breach, the forming of the Inquisition, the Hinterlands, it's members future and present. Most of those pieces remained, but the rest slipped just out of reach leaving nothing but a sharp ache in her head. Hours of play and research into the world of the Inquisition gone.

Panic thudded in her veins. Even if she was dead, this was overwhelming. Too much to process. There was still so much her mind hadn't factored in. Spinning, reeling, disoriented.

Nishant audibly cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the stone. Only Leah's attention shifted. Cassandra barked at her, her effort to find answers ignored. He couldn't see the other man within the cell. Neither adviser spared a glance. The man that was now thoroughly divested of his shadows. The man that opened his mouth to speak, but instead looked at Leah with a look of intense pity.

“No. No. No. No. No. No” Leah muttered as she dug her nails through her hair into her scalp. The sharp sting a comforting pain. It was hers. She created it and it was real. Her eyes fixed forward, staring past the warriors. The thin blanket, her only covering, abandoned and slipping down her shoulders.

Frustration flooded Cassandra's face as she shouted once more. Her patience wearing thin. Cullen grabbed at the seeker's arm as she rapidly approached the cell door.

Too much. Too much too fast. Too much unknown.

Leah filled her lungs and screamed.

The Commander recoiled,stumbling back, as Cassandra froze.

Nishant moved in front of Leah and crouched to her eye level. Shutting her eyes and ducking her head to her chest, she refused to make eye contact. Multiple voices continued. All muffled by press her hands to her ears. She didn't want to listen anymore. She wanted to be alone. Everything too much to bear.

So she sang the only song she could think of to drown it all out. Whether the juvenile tactic silenced everyone or just filled her senses with something else, she didn't give a fuck.

 _“_ _Pressure pushing down on me_

_Pressing down on you no man asked for."_

Alone. Blissfully alone with nothing but lyrics and the bass line in her head to wash away the panic.

 


End file.
